


Not Meant to Be

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Tales of Graces, Tales of Series
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Marriage, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard probably loved Asbel from the first time they met and will probably love him until the day he dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Meant to Be

Richard probably loved Asbel from the day they first met. Being a prince had always been such a drag. Not only had he been restricted to only certain activities “for his safety”, but everyone around him continuously walked on eggshells. Asbel was like a rush of fresh air. The boy hadn’t given the slightest care that Richard’s father could have punished him for simply talking to him, let alone whisking him away for play. Before Asbel, the only people he had known where those trying to use him in one way or another. His position was the only thing that mattered. Yet Asbel couldn’t have cared less about it. It was only because of Asbel that he was able to begin to trust others again. Asbel, Hubert, Sophie, and Cheria were his very first friends, and he knew as soon as they took off for Llant hill that he would treasure them for the rest of his life.

He didn’t become fully aware what the feelings were until after the incident in the catacombs. They could have all died. _Asbel_ could have died. And Richard literally shook at the idea of having to live knowing there was no Asbel left in the world. Just when the realization came, they were separated, leaving him alone again. It was a difficult time, and soon Lambda was able to wheedle his way into the cracks of his heart. Even seeing Asbel again wasn’t able to fill in the cracks and leech the influence out. His own voice, a voice desperately pleading that Lambda spare Asbel if no one else, was lost, and he was forced to watch Asbel and the others struggle against him.

It was a happy day when Asbel beat him. The lord revived their friendship as if there had never been any separation, and Richard felt his feelings grow stronger. He wanted Asbel so badly, and with each council meeting about his imminent marriage, he longed to open his mouth and confess his feelings. He wanted to tug Asbel to him, to whisper hotly his devotion into his ear. He wanted to see Asbel cry from happiness, confessing that he felt the same. Yet, Richard said nothing, neither to the council nor to the lord himself, because even if Asbel had felt the same way, it just wouldn’t have worked. Not when they were King and Lord.

It was painful enough to know that they could never be, but Asbel had asked him to be his best man at his wedding. It was an honor. It showed that Asbel did care for him. Just not in that way. Cheria was radiant in her satin gown, truly fit for the role of Lady of Llant. Her hair was styled in an ornate twisted braid, courtesy of Asbel’s own mother. It was fitting, and Richard understood why he had chosen her. She balanced him in just the right ways, ways Richard couldn’t have. She had a natural dignity that Richard always struggled to maintain. She was a natural teacher and caregiver, the more nurturing counterpart for Sophie’s care. If he had to give Asbel away to someone, he was glad it was her.

It was a strange thing to simultaneously feel genuinely happy and genuinely depressed. His smile wavered, and from the looks Asbel kept shooting his way during the reception, it didn’t go unnoticed. While Asbel’s mood seemed dampened by that realization, it was clear that Cheria was having the time of her life. She kept a close proximity, often touching him with hand or arm. Richard’s eyes stuck to those touches like glue. They were touches he could never have. And with them came images of other touches. Touches he didn’t want to think about but couldn’t seem to cut off from the source. He felt sick, the cake, light and sweet, tasting like sawdust in his mouth.

Sophie gave him a questioning look as she tugged at his sleeve. “Richard,” her eyes were wide lavender petals, “are you not feeling well?”

“No, I…” he began to lie, but her eyes bored into him. He sighed, restarting, “No, I’m not.”

“Do you not like strawberry cake?” She blinked, and somehow her naiveté made him feel a bit better.

“No, Sophie. The cake is fine.”

“Does it have to do with Asbel? Are you upset that he married Cheria?”

“Yes and no. Do you think you can keep a secret, Sophie?”

Her eyes sparkled, and she clenched a fist. “Of course I can.”

“I’m happy for them. I just wish it could have been me instead. To marry Asbel, I mean.”

“You want to marry Asbel? Then why didn’t you tell him?”

She made it sound so simple. If only things were. “We both have duties. A king and a lord cannot marry, Sophie.”

“I see.” She fell into a somber silence. “Richard, are you sad?”

“Yes, Sophie. I am.”

“But,” she looked up, worry evident in her voice, “you’ll still be friends with Asbel, right?”

“Of course. Nothing will change that.”

“Then, it’s okay.”

He smiled a small, tired smile. “Yeah,” was all he said, though he knew that it really wasn’t. He may have Asbel in his life forever, but it would never be enough. It may not be okay, but he could live with it. Just as he could live through constant death threats and noble sacrifices, he could live through this and wish for Asbel’s happiness in the place of his own.


End file.
